


Feel the Tide Turning

by theskywasblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family Drama, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-27
Updated: 2011-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam didn't want this life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel the Tide Turning

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Futile"

“You can’t keep me here, Dean.”

Sam wadded his favourite shirt into a tight ball, crammed it into the bottom of his duffel with his jeans and his socks full of holes. He had the weird urge to pack his sawed-off, rock salt, holy water. He wouldn’t need those things in Stanford.

If he had any luck, he wouldn’t need any of those things ever again.

“Stop,” Dean groped for the bag, got a handful of one of Sam’s pairs of jeans and tried to pull them out until Sam grabbed his wrist and forced his hand away. They grappled for a moment, pulling and shoving without much enthusiasm for it. “Stop, Sam. Just fucking _stop_.”

Dean’s face was more hurt than angry and Sam would be lying if he said it didn’t kill him, but he had to do this.

“You can’t leave, Sam.”

Dean looked at him – looked _up_ at him – defiant and a little desperate. Sam realized like a kick to the gut that he had outgrown his brother in so many more ways than he had ever thought about.

“I have to, Dean. I’ve got a full scholarship; I can’t walk away from that. This is my chance.”

“Your chance for what?”

The worst part was that Dean would _never_ understand. Sam could try and explain it until he was blue in the face and the words would mean nothing. Their shitty motel room, with its faded, threadbare carpet, the cheap wallpaper, the lumpy beds – it was Dean’s _life_ and he would never want anything more.

There wasn’t anything in the world Sam wanted _less_.

He heard the Impala pull up outside, the familiar bass rumble of the engine, and felt his stomach drop down into his toes. Dean gave him one last pleading look – a final _don’t do this to us_ that made Sam feel more determined than guilty – as Sam pulled himself up tall and waited for their Dad to come through the door.

-End-


End file.
